


The Engineer

by CathyFowl



Series: The Chronicles of the Kaimelara [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Kaimelara, Magic-Users, Magical Artifacts, Multiverse, Orb of Fen'Harel, Queen Fagora (Kaimelara), The First Child (Kaimelara), weird magic all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:13:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6406414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CathyFowl/pseuds/CathyFowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Max, the Engineer of Her Majesty Queen Fagora, is handed the pieces of the orb of Fen'Harel to fix. Dangerous magic is dangerous.</p>
<p>Set in a semi-AU, my world of the Kaimelara, a sort of multiverse where every story is true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Engineer

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic, please be gentle. Constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged. Thank you for reading.

Max sighed before pulling on his work gloves. He double checked that the wards that were sewn into the back of the material weren't frayed anywhere. This was going to be a delicate job. Even more delicate perhaps than the living bodies he normally had to recreate.

Usually from ashes. And that was saying something.

He regarded the pieces of the elven orb Azrael had presented to him for fixing. It was in about four major pieces and dozens of tiny shards the  _Angel of Death_ probably worked hours to find and gather. But Max was still sure it was not all the pieces.

They never worked with all the parts. Not really. Some bits were always substituted with the dream-material of Somnium. So the final  _product_ became Kaimelara. One of the "Dreamers". If there were no missing pieces, they received the “Mark of the First Child”. The conscious beings usually received it anyway. Of their own free will. It was a sign of their new alliance. A promise of a new life.

Max never really understood these "recruits" Azrael kept bringing home in pieces. He never knew any other life but this. The Engineer of Her Majesty, Queen Fagora. He suspected that he was probably a special construct or something. Made by the First Child herself, thus Max never questioned missing memories or lacking ambition to become "his own man". Azrael tried to tease him about it in the beginning, but his lack of reaction curbed her enthusiasm for the topic.

Now they were the perfect team. Azrael recovered the dead and forgotten and Max put them back together.

But putting back together such a highly magical object was not in his normal repertoire.

Of course, he knew what he was doing. But knowing the past owner of the orb made him even more cautious. Fen'Harel was one of the few creatures of the  _Otherworlds_ , whose powers were on par with the Queen. This orb was supposed to have contained his powers, and Max was tasked with reviving the orb. To full function.

His glowed hands shook as he reached for the biggest piece and he had to take several deep breaths to calm himself. It would be easier once he was in the zone, but the beginning was always a bit unnerving.

He had to get to know the things he put back together. Usually Azrael briefed him but this time she only quipped "Ancient elven orb of Fen'Harel" and zipped off pretty much as soon as that for another recovery mission.

She was busy these days. She was gathering a lot of intel on this new  _Otherworld_ the Queen discovered. She had plenty of opportunity. Some kind of war was constantly going on in Thedas and Azrael walked among their dead unseen but with open eyes and ears.

Recovering the broken orb was a bit of a fluke actually. The Queen wanted the intact one but it was too heavily guarded and too central for the  _Otherworld_ 's story. So it was Azrael who managed to get it after it was broken and abandoned.

"You should've seen the look on his face. No one knew how much it meant for him. And they tried to be sympathetic but he just left." She gushed. "I wanted to hug him and tell him it'd be alright. Even if it never will be."

"You always want to hug them." Max told her. "If they knew the Angel of Death was in for a hug, they'd freak."

"Hehh." She chuckled. "True, but this one I might just get to hug. He's on a suicide mission as far as I can tell."

"But he sounds a bit too important. When the time comes, Our Lady might go get him herself." Max said.

Azrael's smile faltered. "Yeah. She might. He  _is_ a pretty big deal."

Max would've felt sorry for the angel except he knew that she was just playing at her disappointment. She had her function almost as clearly cut as him. And while Azrael had a past, she was very content in her current life.

Max, now calmed by the simple memories, reached for the orb pieces again, his hands steady. The cool stone buzzed with faded power as he touched it. It was a big orb. Azrael described it as one that fits in ones palm. She forgot to mention that the "one" whose palm it fit was a giant.

Max studied the intricate lines carved into the dark stone and started gathering and rearranging the pieces as the fit together. To his surprize, only the finest dust of pieces were pissing. Practically air. Space for the "glue" he would use to make the orb whole again.

He laid the pieces down again and started gathering herbs and other materials for the energizing spell he would use. He decided to consider the orb nothing less than a body for a soul, what he usually worked with.

Except it was going to be power that filled it once whole again. And it was Max this time who would have to do the final step of calling the  _soul_ back to the  _body_ .

He soaked the herbs and minerals and other bits and pieces of magical materials the Queen provided for his work on a regular basis, in fine oil. He would use the drained and filtered oil as the glue. He started humming as he worked.

At first it came as a surprise to him that he often felt like humming or singing while working. Then he realized, as each project demanded a different tune, that these melodies were part of his magic. Part of the bodies' worlds and helped call them back to life.

He hummed while he strained the oil and he sang strange words he did not understand while he coated the sharp surfaces of the breaks of the orb. After he was done with that, he took a final steadying breath and started setting the matching pieces of stone together. He murmured the First Child's chant while he was doing this. The subtle magic of the first kaimelar would soak into the orb, making it forever part of Somnium and the Kaimelara.

The orb healed. Slowly, piece by piece, it became whole again. But the hardest part was still to come.

Max set the completed orb down on the padded surface of his worktable again and took a step back; letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. It was beautiful, even in its simplicity. A dark stone orb carved with endlessly waving lines. Not a complicated pattern, but he could feel the place that beaconed the power it could hold.

The power Max now had to recall back into its receptacle. He hesitated. If only the Queen could be here, he thought. Then he startled. It was the first time he had doubt in his own skills. Skills he had probably been  _born_ with. Skills that could revive creatures that been destroyed so thoroughly there was only a bucket of fine dust delivered to him. And he made them whole again. Like he had made this orb whole again.

It looked like it was never harmed. But it also looked dead. And that was it really. He made  _bodies_ whole again, but he was not the one who called the souls (or a shadow of the old souls) back into the bodies.

He was tasked with this though, by the Queen, so he was able to do it, surely.

He reached out hesitantly but seeing his gloved hand he froze. An idea. But surely it was too risky. He knew the history of the orb too well to wave off the dangers of touching it bare-handed. But the idea itself felt like somehow it was the key.

Fen'Harel gave his orb away because his slumber made him too weak to open it himself. Max had a potentially opened orb in front of him that he had to  _fill_ with power. And lock it again.

_A caress, a touch, memories._

Memories always seemed to be the key in the magic of Somnium. Memories and dreams. But what were dreams if not memories, distorted and rearranged.

So he thought of his first memory as he pulled his gloves off.

_Kind eyes, a soft smile, the First Child calling his name, "_ Maximilliam _"._

He curled his long fingers around the orb. His hands seemed so small in comparison.

_A lullaby, her singing is like the sweet taste of a first breath. It's life itself. Her love is like the sunlight and water. Nurturing and warm and hopeful. And always a touch bittersweet._

He clung to the memories and tried to  _tell_ them to the orb. And call the promise of Fen'Harel. Fen'Harel, what was  _he_ like?

And suddenly the orb answered.

_Pride and bitterness. He wants to help but no one welcomes it. They want to worship him but he is no god. He tried to save them but doomed them instead and the alternative would've still been worse. Now he loves and has to kill that love in himself to help his People. He has to go on, while she suffers, while he suffers. But he has no other choice. If only..._

And suddenly there was a green light, softly emanating from the orb Max was holding carefully, in both hands, and it filled his workshop. The glass jar on his shelf reflected the light back and for a moment it seemed like his whole room was glowing.

Then the light faded and the orb returned to normal, but there was now life humming through it. Power of and ancient elven "god". The power of Fen'Harel, who only wanted to help those in need.

" _That_ , was AWESOME!" Azrael cheered and Max almost dropped the orb as he startled.

"Maker's breath, don't ever do that while I'm holding something fragile!" He cursed.

" 'Maker's breath'? Really?" Azrael grinned and Max realized that he used a curse of the  _Otherworld_ of the orb. And not even an elven one.

He started shaking. He did something wrong, he was changed, he was tainted by the orb's world, something  _did_ go wrong, as he knew it would. HE KNEW IT!

"Easy!" Azrael was next to him them, taking the orb from him with one hand and hugging him tightly to her with the other. "It's okay, you're okay. Now breathe."

He breathed.

He thought about how he fit perfectly under the angel's chin. He concentrated on the softness of the black feathers of the wings that materialized and wrapped around him in reassurance. He thought about how almost everyone was taller and stronger than him, except Eric. But that kid was still growing. He thought about home and remembered the lullaby the First Child sang to him when he was "born".

And he breathed.

"There-there." Azrael whispered in his ear and he chuckled.

"Sorry. It's just... sorry."

"It was the first time you worked with power. And such a great one too. It inevitable touches back, but the effect fades soon enough. Don't worry, you're still the same Maxie we all love to tease."

He pinched her side in revenge and she jumped.

"Hey! I'm still holding the orb! We don't want your masterwork broken, again, do we?" She danced away from him, her wings closing and disappearing. She walked back to the table by his door. There was an intricate treasure box on it.

"Queenie found that She could make one of their Dwarven Puzzle boxes into a safe container." Azrael said while she fidgeted with the box, half-handed, until it finally opened. She set the orb carefully inside and closed it.

"Good." She seemed to be relieved.

"Is everything alright?" Max asked hesitantly.

Azrael was good at hiding her troubles, and she  _did_ have a stressful job, but she seemed more stressed than usual.

"Asks the engineer who just had an existential mini-crisis over the remnant effects of working with overly powerful magic." She quipped. He recognized her trying to change the subject.

"Thank you for helping." He said. "But... if I can return the favour..."

He left the sentence hanging and waited.

Azrael hesitated and that was enough to almost send Max into another panic-attack. What was wrong if the Angel of Death was worried?!?

Finally she sighed and gave him a bitter smile.

"I'm just having a too easy time." She said. "There’s too much death in that world. And it gets me thinking... What would we do if we didn't have the Queen protecting us?" She dropped down into an empty chair and buried her face in her hands. "She always says that it's not Her magic, it's Somnium's, but we can all feel the touches of the First Child on our world."

Max thought about his first memories again but did not add  _some more than others_ .

"She blames Herself for every little thing going wrong. Even when She fixes it all immediately. She wants us to be happy so badly, She forgets about Her  _own_ happiness. I don't think She realizes how much She means to us. How much we want Her to be happy."

Max walked over to Azrael and put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's why She is who She is."

His words didn't seem to help much.

"Yeah." Azrael said, her voice tired and a bit broken. When she raised her head to smile at Max, her eyes were full of tears. "It's just... painful to watch, you know."

But, of course, he didn't. He was one of the few of The Loyal, who very rarely had direct contact with the Queen. He had hang out with the others, but he only closely worked with Azrael.

"I don't know," he began slowly, "if it's because I only have memories of myself as being my function, but I think I understand Her feelings. Her “job” is to take care of us, to protect us, so that's what She does. With all Her being."

Azrael gave him a strange look then turned away suddenly, before more tears could escape. "But who will take care of Her?" she whispered.

"Us, of course." Max said matter-of-factly.

Azrael turned back to look at him so suddenly he was afraid she'd get whiplash. She stared at him for a few long moments, then... she laughed. A full throated, delighted, belly laugh.

"Of course!" She got out the words between bouts of giggles. "Of course. Thrust it to the Engineer to point out the obvious." She grabbed him around the waist and hugged him to her, even as she continued to giggle into the fabric of his work-apron.

Max smiled fondly as he ran his fingers through the angel's dark curls. This was a good day after all.

 


End file.
